


have you ever been so angry

by Pyralis_Anacreon



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: (Dan's drunk), Dubious Consent, F/M, M/M, Threesomes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 19:50:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6580072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pyralis_Anacreon/pseuds/Pyralis_Anacreon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of Saint Lucifer, Lucifer comes back up to his apartment to find Dan drunk. Lucifer has some fun.</p><p>In which I try to 'fix' things with threesomes. Also, just enough plot to further the pairing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	have you ever been so angry

Lucifer returned to his apartment above Lux after the lovely Detective Decker had taken away their murderess and the guests had all filed out, bewildered but happy to have more juicy gossip. He opened the door and froze, having forgotten in all the rushing around and not being dead that he'd left Detective Douche alone in his home, with an invitation to drink his liquor.

Dan, it seemed, had helped himself to more than just two drinks.

Detective Douche was absolutely _trashed_.

Lucifer considered his options. He could leave Dan half-conscious on his couch for the night - he took a moment to laugh at his own joke, that wasn't even really up for consideration - or he could kick the man to the curb and let him fend for himself. Perhaps drop him off in an area of the city that didn't look kindly on cops? Call Chloe to collect her pathetic husband?

He eliminated this option quickly as well. No, she'd probably just sleep with him out of pity.

Well, there was a thought.

"Good evening, Detective Espinoza," Lucifer murmured, taking hold of the front of the man's shirt and hauling him upright. The half-empty bottle of - Lucifer looked down and grimaced - obscenely expensive whiskey was still tucked securely into the man's hand. The philistine had been drinking straight from the bottle, probably not even savoring the taste.

"You're a tragedy, you are," Lucifer told him.

Dan blinked blearily and his brows drew together in confusion. "Lucifer? I drank your alcohol."

"Yes, I did notice. That was expensive, you know; how are you going to pay me back?"

"Um... I don't have my wallet on me. And if your tequila is twenty bucks a shot, I don't really wanna know what half a bottle of whatever this is costs."

Lucifer steered him away from the couch. The stairs would be a problem, since climbing them would afford Dan too much time to clear his head and think about what was happening. Of course, that wouldn't be an issue if Lucifer could put Dan out long enough to fully carry him up.

He left Dan standing - swaying, really - near the bar, divested of the whiskey. Poured himself a drink under the other man's still-bemused gaze.

"Well, I've got an idea how you can make it up to me," Lucifer said, turning from the bar to Dan with the tumbler in his right hand, swirling idly. There would be an unmistakably predatory look on his face at this point; any human being knew how to read that.

Dan swallowed heavily and stuttered, "How?" because he wasn't willing to admit that he probably already knew.

Lucifer took that last step into Dan's personal space, his left foot slotting neatly between Dan's, his free hand coming around to the small of Dan's back, his mouth next to Dan's ear. "Oh, I think you've figured it out by now, Detective."

Dan really had no choice about moving; Lucifer's grip wasn't constricting, but the maneuvering needed to escape would overcome his already precarious balance and only put him on the floor in front of Lucifer, which wasn't that much better a place to be.

"I'm not gay," Dan said over Lucifer's shoulder, hoping that would clear things up.

"Oh, Detective, neither am I. You humans and your precious labels. We're just going to have a little fun; trust me, you'll like it."

Lucifer's head turned slightly, brushing stubble along Dan's jaw, sending his breath ghosting warmly over the side of Dan's neck. Dan shivered involuntarily, certain urges waking up.

"I don't even _like_ you," he managed when his throat had cleared.

Lucifer stepped back suddenly, depriving Dan of his warmth and whatever delicious cologne he had on. He was wearing that huge shark's grin all the way up to his dark eyes. "Hate sex," Lucifer rumbled, his voice lower than usual. "Second-best kind."

Lucifer tossed back the whiskey still in his hand, thumped the empty tumbler onto the bar, and grabbed hold of Dan again. Swung the man around and put him up against the bar; Dan gave an aborted shout as the world spun around entirely too fast for his head, putting out both hands for balance. One landed on a barstool, which rocked unsteadily, but the other found stable purchase on the bar itself. He refocused on Lucifer just in time to see the man smirk broadly and sink to his knees.

It took Dan a few crucial seconds to get his voice working again. "What are you - Holy - "

Lucifer took his mouth away to glare up at Dan; he had never looked more sinful. "If you call my father's name, I will take your clothes and drop you in the middle of your precinct."

Dan decided to try not to talk. It wasn't a hard decision, when the world was quickly narrowing down to Lucifer's hot mouth and his fucking - "Is your tongue _forked_?"

Lucifer pulled back again and Dan groaned, regretting his question already. He looked up with his sharpest grin spread across wet red lips and half-lidded eyes. "Sometimes."

Lucifer bent his head again, one hand still holding Dan's thigh in a crushing grip while the other tugged the waistband of his open pants even lower. Dan panted, realized that looking down at the man between his legs wasn't helping him last any longer than a teenager, and tried directing his gaze upwards to the ridiculously high ceilings.

That helped right up until Lucifer did the thing with his ridiculous tongue again and swallowed him to the hilt.

Dan didn't even manage a warning before his orgasm hit him like a freighter, making his already-hazy vision dance with black spots.

He didn't black out, but it was a close-run thing, and he definitely did check out of his head for a minute or so because the next thing he knew he was being carried up the last step of Lucifer's stupidly dangerous exposed staircase, legs wrapped loosely around the other man's waist, arms over his shoulders. Lucifer didn't even seem to notice Dan's weight, which just wasn't fair on a man as slim as he was.

Lucifer's head was under Dan's jaw as he walked, sucking a line of red marks all the way up his neck. Dan shuddered again and managed to say, "You're wasting your time, Lucifer, I am so not going to be ready to go again tonight."

Dan's calves hit something soft, and Lucifer dumped him backwards onto a plush bed with black covers, black eyes dancing with an unholy glee over his pointed nose and his still wildly-sinful mouth. Lucifer leaned his knees on the edge of the bed and fell forward, crawling up his body until he was straddling Dan's hips and had both hands on either side of his head. Lucifer leaned down and pushed his forehead to Dan's, looking straight into his eyes.

"Oh, _De-tec-tive_ ," the devil purred, flashing just a hint of that wicked tongue, "You underestimate both of us."

* * *

There was no way he could have known it, but Detective Espinoza emulated his wife's wake-up almost exactly right up until the point when Lucifer would have told Chloe that they did not, in fact, do the deed.

His first sight upon waking was his boxer-briefs hanging from the bedside lamp. Lucifer had had something to do with the placement.

Because the devil was not a cuddler by nature, his first clue that he had a bed partner came when Dan rolled over to figure out where he was. Lucifer was still pretending to be sound asleep next to him, although he kept an interested ear open to the eventual panic.

"What the fuck?" Dan demanded, scrambling backwards abruptly. He didn't have that much bed to retreat to; he spilled backwards off the edge, landing on his curved upper back, knocked his head hard against the wood floor and woke up the massive hangover which had been lurking in the background until that point.

On rare occasions, Lucifer has been known to show mercy. He returned from his kitchen with a plastic bag full of ice cubes and water, as well as a cup of the same.

"I don't have a real ice-pack." Lucifer said as he offered it to Dan, who was holding Lucifer's bullet-hole riddled shirt against the back of his head.

"Thanks." Dan switched out the shirt for the ice bag, and drank deeply from the glass. "I think, anyway," he said when he'd finished. He was staring at Lucifer, who was still unabashedly naked. As was Dan, come to think of it, but he at least was still under the covers and too hung over to even handle putting on underwear right now.

The previous night began to filter in, not all in order. Things seemed pretty simple right up until Lucifer had started sucking him off and then carried him to this bed where - 

"Oh my god," Dan said distantly, reviewing what his memory was telling him. Lucifer sighed, rolled his eyes, and muttered something foul. "Did I fuck you?"

Lucifer grinned delightedly. "Yep!" he replied, popping the last letter. "You were rather vocally appreciative of my ass, too. Which you know I already knew, but it's nice to have someone confirm it every once in a while. Certainly, running around with Detective Decker, I could start to get a self-esteem complex about it. I should tell my therapist about that."

Dan was still stuck on the - to be honest, absolutely mind-blowing - sex he'd apparently had with Lucifer Goddamn Morningstar last night. "I was drunk," he said absently, not listening to Lucifer's rambling.

"Oh, yes, you were completely sloshed. Still, you enjoyed yourself. All of my bed partners do. Say, you wouldn't mind telling Chloe...? Spread the legend, as it were."

Dan recoiled again, horror dawning on him. _Chloe_. He hadn't seen her in what felt like a year, he didn't even know if she was okay, if _Trixie_ was okay. And instead of finding them, he'd gotten drunk and slept with Lucifer Goddamn Morningstar.

"No, I'm not going to fucking tell Chloe. I have to go. You don't tell her either. This never happened, this, this whole fucking night never happened." Dan's mind raced as he grabbed at whatever clothes he could reach, trying to find something that would keep Lucifer's mouth shut over this. He latched onto something blindly. "Or Chloe will start wondering why I found you with three bullet holes in your shirt and none on your body."

Lucifer gave him one of those grins that transformed his whole, pointed face and never reached his eyes. "Please, do," he insisted, the words just rolling off his tongue, "I've been trying to convince her for _ever_ so long."

"Just don't fucking tell her!" Dan shouted, finally getting his pants on. Lucifer was standing between Dan and his underwear, so he was going commando for this walk of shame. When he stood, he knew immediately why the pants had been so difficult to get on: they were tailored for Lucifer's much slimmer figure, and stretched very tight over Dan's.

"Would you consider it a favor if I didn't, Detective?" Lucifer purred, and Dan shivered reflexively. His body vividly remembered Lucifer using that tone several times last night.

"Yes," Dan answered before he could think better of it.

"Well then, we have a deal." Lucifer grinned, and reached out. Dan didn't react fast enough, couldn't dodge the hand that caught him around the back of his neck as he shoved past. That grip reeled him in for a vicious but mostly closed-mouth kiss, which no amount of shoving at Lucifer could break him away from. When he was finally released, Dan wiped the corner of his mouth where Lucifer had licked him, and looked incredulously at the man.

"Well? Weren't you just in a rush to get somewhere?" Lucifer motioned vaguely in the direction of the stairs and turned away, apparently having dismissed Dan's entire existence now that he was finished with him.

Dan blew an angry breath out of his nose and decided that punching the guy who shrugged off bullets wouldn't get him anywhere. He pushed roughly into the rest of his clothes and stomped out of the lair of the devil.

* * *

Dan was back the next night with a nauseous feeling in his stomach. He'd gone to straighten things out with Chloe - "I texted you _what_? Chloe, my phone was stolen yesterday, I've been trying to spread the word since then," - and see Trixie. Holding his daughter had made a lot of things feel better. But she had mentioned Lucifer, and then Dan had remembered their parting words.

He was stone-cold sober, even though this seemed like a conversation he should be at least a little fortified against, because he wasn't chancing alcohol around Lucifer again. He leaned heavily into the doorbell and then stood back, crossing his arms.

Lucifer answered the door in a robe. Of course he did. He took a step back from the doorway and raked his eyes down and back up Dan's form, ending with a quirked eyebrow and a knowing smirk. Dan felt a little violated, and also like he knew what women were complaining about when they used words like 'objectified'.

"Well, Detective Dan," the devil murmured, "What a surprise to see you so soon. Back for more? I've been told I'm like heroin."

Dan rolled his eyes and shoved past Lucifer. "No, I'm here to talk about yesterday. You know, when I came in here and there were bullets but no holes? I want answers."

Lucifer sighed noisily and closed the door, turning straight for the bar. Dan wondered idly if anyone had ever told him about  cirrhosis of the liver. "I keep telling you people. I'm the devil! Immortal! In most circumstances," he added, growing a little subdued.

"So you're saying that if I shot you, right now, it wouldn't do a damn thing."

Lucifer spread his arms, one hand already occupied with some amber-colored liquor, and said grandly, "Take your best shot, Detective. The leg though, please. Last time this didn't go so well and I'd rather not chance it."

Dan snorted, coming to stand across the bar from the other man. "I'm not shooting you. I don't like you, but I can't just go around shooting people I don't like."

"Whyever not? It seems to me the world would be a much better place without all the detestable little people in it." Lucifer muttered, sipping from his glass. He set it down and reached for the ice bucket at the end of the bar, but didn't use the ice pick to chip any out.

Instead he grabbed the pick and brought it down on his other hand in a fearlessly fluid movement. Dan shouted, jerking away, but instead of a punctured hand and copious amounts of blood he watched the pick strike and slide off like it had hit steel instead of skin.

"What the fuck?" Dan demanded, grabbing at the ice pick when Lucifer held it out for inspection. It was sharp and solid, not a trick prop.

With only a moment's hesitation, Dan looked up at Lucifer for permission; he nodded regally and watched with a small smile as Dan tried to press the pick slowly through the top of his hand.

The skin there indented, but no amount of pressure - not even Dan leaning his whole upper body into it - would break it. He angled wrong at the end and sent the pick skidding again, screeching noisily against the glass counter-top of the bar.

"Okay, so that's weird," Dan said finally, breathing a little too fast. He looked up at Lucifer and froze, unable to look away from those dark eyes.

"Tell me, Detective, what do you want most in the world?" Lucifer asked lowly, leaning in. His eyes and that predatory grin were the only thing left in Dan's vision.

Dan's throat worked until finally he wasn't able to resist it anymore. "I want Chloe and Trixie back. They're the best thing I'm ever gonna get."

Lucifer sighed and rolled his eyes. "Well, that's boring."

Dan shook his head to clear it, broken from whatever spell that had been. He remembered his other reason for coming here tonight. "Lucifer, this morning...."

"Yes, are you going to return my pants? I certainly don't want yours."

"Not that," but also no, Dan would not be returning them. They made his ass look great. "When I told you not to tell Chloe about... it. You asked if it would be a favor?"

"Ah, ah, no take-backs, Detective," Lucifer grinned broadly and wagged his finger. "A deal with me is a deal for _life_ , you know."

Dan attached this to his new knowledge that Lucifer was actually, literally the devil and started spiraling quickly into the fear and repercussions of selling your soul for a single night in the devil's bed. He grabbed the nearest open bottle, pulled off the top, and tipped it back. It took him a few seconds to realize that that strange sound was Lucifer's laughter.

"First of all, that isn't to be chugged like some frat-party watered-down swill." Lucifer snatched the bottle away. He was right; it had tasted terribly expensive. "Secondly, I don't own your soul now; calm down. It's just a favor, dear. Really, the only thing you have to be worried about is what I'm going to ask you for in return."

"I just won't do it," Dan challenged. He certainly didn't feel compelled to do anything for Lucifer. Had, in fact, just tried really hard to stab the man.

Lucifer just smiled at him, though his eyes were absolutely glacial. "Then I suppose I'll be seeing you down in Hell. We've got a special place for people who break their deals."

Dan still didn't have much proof that Lucifer was anything other than a hypnotist with strangely impermeable skin, so that didn't affect him quite as much as it should have. He had his proof the next moment, when Lucifer lean forward with all trace of good humor gone from his expression and growled, "You can trust my word, Detective; I do not lie. Hell is nowhere you want to be, just ask your friend Malcolm. Thirty seconds turned him into a desperate creature made of base needs and left no room for anything else. Just imagine knowing that you're there for eternity."

And then the devil's eyes flickered bright, burning red and orange, and Dan saw Hell in them.

"I'm gonna need that drink back," Dan croaked, through a voice suddenly choked with fear.

Lucifer graciously brought the bottle back, although he insisted on pouring it out into a glass. "Don't worry so much, Detective. I usually don't ask for anything you're not willing to give."

* * *

"God fucking damn it," Dan groaned the next morning, when the aches in his head, hips, and ass had faded enough to allow him to visually confirm that, yes, he was indeed in Lucifer's ridiculously large bed again.

"You were very insistent, darling," Lucifer said from the armchair, sipping what was probably an Irish coffee. "If you haven't remembered yet, you no longer owe me any favors."

Dan did remember. Getting drunk again - bad idea, terrible idea - and telling Lucifer he could use his favor to fuck Dan. "Since there's no other way you're ever getting anywhere near my ass," Dan had phrased it.

"Ordinarily I would have just seduced you," Lucifer commented, finishing off his Irish coffee. "But that's a lot of work, you know, and it has occurred to me that a favor from you is next to useless. I'd rather have one from your Chief, or even Detective Decker."

Just the thought of Chloe owing this creep anything made Dan feel physically ill. Or that might have been the hangover. Either way, he rolled over and managed to get most of it on the floor - in the trash can, actually, since Lucifer had somehow known and already placed one there.

"I detest this human reaction to alcohol," Lucifer grimaced. "If you get any outside that bin, you'll be the one cleaning it up."

"Go to hell," Dan gasped between heaves.

"Oh, that's not in either of our futures anymore."

* * *

Dan managed not to see Lucifer for another two weeks. He did this mostly by avoiding Chloe during work hours, unless he saw her at the station - for some reason Lucifer rarely followed her in there - and by calling ahead before he went to Chloe's mother's house. The system worked out just fine until the Moretta case.

It was named after Samantha Moretta, who had been gunned down in a drive-by on the way home from her elementary school.

It was open-and-shut gang warfare, but Dan knew that arresting the only two guys they could reliably place at the scene wouldn't help. There had been more there that the traffic camera hadn't seen, and there would always be more young men with guns and bad ideas.

He needed desperately some physical connection, but no one at the Paddock would fight him, none of the women would sleep with him, and he would never bring this kind of darkness to visit Trixie; he'd keep from tainting her with his job if it was the last thing he did.

So Dan found himself mildly drunk and ringing Lucifer's doorbell.

"I need to forget some things," Dan said when Lucifer opened the door, and then hauled him into a rough kiss.

As it turned out, Lucifer was exactly what Dan had wanted. Willing and just violent enough, and Dan had no fear of breaking or darkening him. What could he do to hurt the devil?

"I told you," Lucifer said at one point, grinning with blood in his teeth. It was Dan's, which felt pretty good. "I'm like heroin to you humans."

"Shut the fuck up and take me out of my head." Dan snapped.

Lucifer smirked widely. "All you had to do was ask, darling," he purred, and dropped to his knees.

* * *

A little while later, Dan was sitting up on the couch, dress shirt hanging open and pants pushed past his ass, so he had a perfect view of the door when Chloe opened it and let herself in like she lived there.

"Lucifer - oh, shit, sorry - " Presumably meant that she saw Lucifer first, since he was straddling Dan's lap and had a hand around both of them. "Wait, the fuck, _Dan_?!"

It had been too much to hope that she didn't see him when he jerked his head forward and leaned into Lucifer's neck. Dan heard Lucifer chuckle darkly and felt him tuck them both away before he tilted and rolled off to the side.

"Chloe!" Lucifer exclaimed cheerfully, spreading his arms along the back of the couch like he wasn't pitched the world's most obvious tent. Dan still couldn't tear his eyes away from the floor, afraid of what he'd see if he looked at his estranged wife.

"Dan," Chloe snarled, "What the fuck is going on here."

"Well it was leading up to sex, but I think that might be off the table now." Lucifer answered for him.

"You shut up," she snapped. "I'm talking to my husband. Who I've just found with his pants down. Who has previously accused me, and acted ridiculously sanctimonious and controlling and like an absolute dick, at the very thought that I would sleep with someone else. _Anyone_ else, let alone _you_."

"I don't... really have a good explanation." Dan admitted, finally looking up to her thunderous expression. Tentatively he offered, "The first time I was drunk?"

He realized his mistake immediately when her face flushed red with anger. "The first time, huh? I haven't gotten laid in _months!_ I've been trying, _you_ have been trying, to work this out. Well fuck that. If you get to sleep with other people, so do I."

Chloe got halfway to the door; Lucifer had already rolled his head over to look at Dan and suggest they get back to what they had been doing. Then she stopped and did a sharp turn on her heel, marched over to the couch. Dan braced for a slap, possibly a punch, but she stopped in front of Lucifer and dragged him up with one hand under his jaw.

"I don't feel like trying to pick someone up, and you're easy," she told him, purposefully not looking at Dan two feet to her left. "Let's go."

"Yes, ma'am," Lucifer replied, grinning delightedly. Because he wasn't entirely evil, he did not shoot Dan any sort of triumphant look as he followed Dan's wife up the stairs.

Dan sat there for a few long moments, before realizing through his numb haze that if he didn't move, eventually he would have to listen to Lucifer fuck Chloe. He fastened his pants and stood, and then Lucifer appeared on the balcony above.

"What are you doing? Get up here." Lucifer called, and Dan froze.

"What?"

"Come on, I've managed to talk her around a bit. Have you ever had a threesome? I promise, they're every bit as fun as they sound."

When Dan got to the top of the stairs, Lucifer was already turning around and heading back for the bed, where Chloe was laying back, shirtless but bra still on, and leaning up on her elbows to look down at him.

"I'm still fucking pissed at you," Chloe shortly, "So I'm going to let Lucifer fuck me. But you can be here too."

"That's fair I guess," Dan replied, and went to the bed.


End file.
